16. Leaving the Nest

Limping.

My steps are heavy.

Tired from sprinting at full speed is part of it. But the shock is greater.

My beloved home is gone.

Even when turned into a spider, even when eating revolting things, my iron heart remained unshaken. Now, a gaping void has formed.

Ah. I knew such a day might come. I prepared for it. But now that it has arrived, the shock is far greater than expected.

I had hoped for a little more time. That expectation only deepens the damage.

I wanted to keep my home until I reached at least level ten.

Uuu.

Uuuu.

Uuuuuu—ugh!

Alright. No more dwelling.

Time to shift focus.

First, decide what to do next.

Several options exist.

1. Construct the next my home somewhere else.

2. Continue wandering through this dungeon as-is.

3. Aim for the dungeon’s exit.

These are the options that come to mind.

Considering safety and related factors, option one would be preferable.

Yet I will deliberately reject option one.

My home is pleasant.

It provides for food, clothing, and shelter, with little need to work.

It could be called an ideal paradise.

But if I sit idly in that environment, I will gradually deteriorate.

Mentally. Physically.

If I only hunt safely within my home, I will become incapable of handling unforeseen circumstances—like a marionette with no will.

I realized this through the recent event.

As I am now, I would have no choice but to flee if faced with an opponent capable of breaking through a spider’s web.

That is unacceptable.

Fleeing each time like this—there would be no end to it if I were to fall into such a state again.

Above all, having my home destroyed has left something smoldering within me.

I cannot accept myself continuing to run.

Yes, I was furious.

That I had been forced to watch my home destroyed with no means to stop it. That I had come to see fleeing as the default response.

Yes, that was me. I was the one who decided without hesitation to run.

But what happens when I actually flee?

The bitterness, the shame—so intense it feels as though my body is tearing apart.

Run again?

I could not endure that.

The reason my heart burns so fiercely is not merely because my home was a convenient place. It was because it was something deeply important to me.

In trite terms, it was the place I truly belonged.

There had been no place for me in my previous life.

The family had shattered. I could not integrate into school.

Even within games—merely a fabricated world.

There was no place for me.

I had pretended to accept it, saying I’d manage without a home.

But my home was built solely for me, by me, for my sake.

A place without restraint, exclusively mine.

It was taken from me.

That was equivalent to the theft of my very existence.

If I yield here, I will never again possess pride.

Is mere survival happiness?

Ha. So I was truly a born pacifist, just like any other Japanese.

Living without pride is no different than being dead.

That truth became painfully clear through this incident.

My home is lost.

My pride is wounded.

I must become stronger, to prevent my pride from being defiled further.

To achieve this, merely isolating oneself in a new safe haven and engaging in routine hunts will not suffice.

Combat experience must be accumulated.

That leaves two options: wandering aimlessly through the dungeon, or seeking the exit.

Yet, in truth, both choices are nearly identical.

The exit's location remains unknown.

Ultimately, there is no alternative but to wander aimlessly.

In fact, I know almost nothing about this dungeon.

Despite having been born and raised within it, I do not know its name.

I lack knowledge of its scale, its difficulty level, even basic terrain features.

Everything remains unknown.

Hmm?

I recall having felt this same uncertainty before...

Ah!

Yes, yes—during the moment I acquired the鉴定 skill!

That's right. The鉴定 skill existed.

Leveling was no longer possible within my home, but now that I am outside, leveling is available.

Gaining levels might contribute slightly. From now on, I will continue鉴定 without pause.

Thus,鉴定 begins.

『Maze Wall』『Maze Floor』『Maze Ceiling』

Still unusable.

Ah, but with every step,鉴定 results are displayed consecutively. Proficiency should be accumulating.

Ugh—information is flooding into my mind. Slightly unpleasant.

I must endure until I adapt.

When I first鉴定 a large group of monsters, I did not feel this nauseous.

Perhaps the shock then outweighed the discomfort?

Regardless, for now, I will wander through the dungeon while continuing鉴定.